


Chapter 4: Slave For Your Love (Sam/Dean)

by LadyCrystalCastalia



Series: Plaything (The Freak On His Leash) [Sam/Dean] - COMPLETE [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cuddling and Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Porn, Post Season 4, Rating: NC17, Rimming, Schmoop, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Whipping, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000, jealous!Dean, possessive!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCrystalCastalia/pseuds/LadyCrystalCastalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s the only one who gets to call him that, and when he stops, Sam feel like he’s withering inside. Lucifer has risen and Ruby has run away, but rogue angels and a legion of demons are still the least of his worries. He just wants his brother back; because there is nothing in the world like being Dean’s “Sammy”.<br/>A/N: An exploration of Dean’s feelings after Lucifer Rising, of Sam’s guilt and motives for going Ruby-side, and of the boys’ pain and enduring love for each other through their most trying time. Follow the erotically codependent Winchester brothers on their chaotic way back to each other as they try to work out their issues (that damn phone call too): dysfunctional couples’ therapy at its finest ;).</p><p>This chapter: The boys play some more, then have a long overdue talk</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sick Puppies

**CHAPTER 4: SLAVE FOR YOUR LOVE**

**Summary:** The boys play some more, then have a long overdue talk

**PART I – SICK PUPPIES**

“Bend over.”

Day four of their experimental therapy for confused, tangled up, and codependent siblings, Winchester-style. After spending the night in each other’s arms, they had woken up feeling calmer and easily fallen back into their… routine.

Sam leaned over the table. His eyes widened and his limbs stiffened when Dean’s palm landed a first smack on his ass.

After the incident from the night before, Dean had decided to leave the whip alone for a while and replace it with his hands; and he liked it. He liked it a lot.

He smacked the left butt cheek playfully, swatted the right one, then both, leaving faint red prints everywhere he touched.

Sam could feel his skin ignite under his brother’s hand. He gasped when Dean began to spank him harder, landing a series of fast slaps on his butt. His body finally loosened when Dean started rubbing his palm gently over the raw skin.

“Let’s see if we can make that tight ass jiggle,” Dean said after a while, half teasing and half threatening, cutting his brother’s relief short.

He struck hard, the crack of his hand against Sam’s flesh sharp in the room. Sam twisted, feeling the sting, but Dean forced him still while he landed one heavy smack after the other, watching the muscles twitch every time he hit a little too hard.

Sam’s eyes filled with tears and he cried out as Dean brought down a rain of fire onto his backside. His skin was vibrating with his master’s name and his ass burned with each blow. His legs trembled, his knees threatening to give out at any moment, and by the time his brother had decided Sam had had enough, he could barely feel the floor under his feet.

Dean dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to the crimsoning flesh, kissing the bruises better. He burrowed his face between Sam’s thighs, gripped his butt cheeks, and flicked his tongue over the small opening. Sam’s fingernails scratched the table. Little noises of pleasure fell from his mouth and his hips moved on their own, pushing him backwards to meet the wet muscle that was stretching him open. 

Dean dug his tongue as far as he could. He twirled it around, gliding it against the soft walls before pulling out to suck and lick the tiny orifice, eating Sam like a juicy piece of fruit. He reached lower and rubbed his fingers over the tip of Sam’s erection. “So wet, already,” he teased. “Is that for me?” he asked, fisting the hard length while he planted a loud kiss on Sam’s backside.

Sam reached behind and spread himself open in reply. Dean didn’t waste a minute. He slathered the exposed cleft with an abundance of lube and pressed himself against it. He penetrated Sam slowly, letting his fingers trace the muscles of his brother’s shoulders, back, and abs while he gave Sam a moment to adjust. Then he leaned over Sam, slid his palms up Sam’s chest and nibbled on his neck as he started pumping in and out of him.

Sam thrust back to meet every stroke. He could feel the heat stirring between them as they moved. The table was groaning under their weight and Sam couldn’t stop writhing while Dean pinched his nipples and drove his pole deep and hard inside of him, bringing them close to the ultimate reward.

Dean pulled out before Sam could reach the peak. He walked to the other side of the table, threaded his fingers through the thick brown locks, and moved Sam’s head closer to his crotch while he jerked his cock. Sam opened his mouth. He let his brother’s seed slide over his tongue and swallowed every drop, even licking the taste of Dean off his lips when he was done.

Dean looked down at the irresistible creature stretched over the table with awe. He dragged his thumb over the talented lips, resisting the temptation to lean down to give Sam a deep, long kiss, and he tugged at the collar ring. He had decided he didn't need any other toy today, including the leash, so instead of leading Sam around like he usually did, he simply told him to kneel in the corner, facing the wall with his hands behind his back.

He left him there to go get dressed, and when he was ready to go, he stood behind Sam and slid his hand under his chin to make him look up. Sam leaned against his legs and waited his orders.

“I’m going out,” Dean announced. “You don’t move until I call you.”

“Yes, Master.”

Sam stayed where he was, listening to the sounds of his brother leaving the motel, the sounds of the world outside, and staring at the faded wallpaper patterns to distract himself from the ache between his legs as minutes slowly ticked by. 

*

 

 His knees were sore and his legs almost numb when the phone rang. 

“Have you been a good boy?” Dean asked as soon as Sam picked up.

Sam looked at his neglected shaft, feeling the precum sliding freely down the underside. He swallowed a groan when the throbbing knot tightened in his lower belly. He wasn’t sure what Dean planned to do with him, but he couldn’t wait to get started. “Yes.”

“Go to your bed then, and lie down.”

“Yes.”

“Spread your legs. Let your hand slide down. Slowly.”

“Yes.”

“Stop before you reach your cock.”

Sam closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Yes.” “I want you to finger yourself. Start by touching it.”

Sucking his breath in, Sam lifted his hips slightly and slid his middle finger between his ass cheeks. He pressed the tip against the puffy rim of his well-used entrance and let out a moan.

“How is it?”

“Wet,” Sam whispered, face red, feeling like a dirty little slut, and too turned on to mind. He bit his lip and added shyly, “Still stretched open from your cock.”

Dean’s hand moved down to his crotch. He hadn’t planned on getting into the action again himself, but the way Sam responded to him, eager to play despite the hesitation that was evident in his voice when he uttered those dirty words —he could almost see the blood staining his little brother’s cheeks— it was too much to resist.

“Stroke it,” he ordered, his voice low and hoarse.

Sam rubbed his finger up and down and around the swollen rim, his hips rolling as he writhed on the mattress.

“Slip your finger in.”

Sam pushed his finger in easily and licked his lips from sheer bliss.

“Another.”

“Yes.”

“Do you like it when I’m inside you?”

Sam’s breath grew labored. “Yeah.”

“Move your fingers.”

“Oh, God.”

Sam did as he was told, fucking himself with his fingers. It felt good, nowhere as good as when Dean did it, but with his eyes closed and Dean’s voice in his ear, it was the next best thing.

Dean listened to him moan on the other end of the line, picturing him open wide, fucking himself on the motel bed. He pumped his fist up and down his dick.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Feels good,” Sam answered..” Wish it was you.”

“Imagine I’m inside you, filling your tight little fuckhole with my dick.”

Sam’s head thrashed on the pillow; he panted into the phone. His fingers moved a little faster.

“I’m fucking that tight little ass of yours, and you feel so hot, baby boy. So good and I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come inside you so hard and fill you with so much cum you’ll be leaking for days.”

“Uh! Dean!” Sam’s hand moved faster, thrusting roughly in and out. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, the way they did when Dean was slamming into him.

“Pull your fingers out and jerk your cock.”

Dean listened to the desperate moans, making up the sounds he couldn’t detect from afar, the wet sounds of precum and lube-slicked fingers flying over Sam’s shaft. He heard his name, at first a whisper, then louder, until it was a scream that made him explode.

On the other end, Sam climaxed with a shuddering moan, imagining Dean shooting his full load in his ass like the day before, but this time, he was allowed to come with him.

They stayed on the phone, not saying a word, as they tried to recover their breath.

“Feel better?” Dean asked after a while.

Sam smiled. His master liked to toy with his slave before allowing him his pleasure, but when he did…

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Master.”

“Good boy. I’ll be home soon.”

Dean tossed his cell phone on the passenger seat and wiped himself off before zipping his pants. He blew out loudly and let his head fall backwards. Next time Sam was putting on this little show, he would be right there in the room with him, watching every move.

 

_Part II – Wounded Warriors_


	2. Wounded Warriors

**PART II – WOUNDED WARRIORS**

 

Sam looked up from the book, _Christian Mythology_ _III: The Serpent_ , in which he had been immersed in for the past three hours. His heart started racing when he caught his brother looking at him, but his smile faded when Dean looked away. He closed the tattered book and scratched anxiously at the textured leather cover.

He knew it was coming, and as much as he was dreading it, he needed it to happen. They both did. His whole plan had been about getting them to this part. The intense intimacy of the last days might have brought them to a closeness that went far beyond what either had expected, but they would remain distant in all the ways that mattered as long as they didn’t face the issues that were poisoning their relationship head on.

He wasn’t sure if it was too soon or just the right time. It didn’t matter. The floodgates were about to burst open. Dean might try to deny it, but Sam couldn’t ignore the tell-tale signs. It was nothing obvious. They had shared lunch in their motel room, which never happened anymore, and Dean had even stayed with him while they did research, squinting at the scans of ancient texts about the origins and history of the Devil. But just like Sam was able to feel his brother’s presence when Dean entered a room, he could sense his restlessness, his exasperation, or like now, his disenchantment, as he mulled over all those things they had never really talked about.

_“Soon as she’s dead, we can talk all you want. The demon bitch is a deal breaker; you kiss her goodbye, we can go right now.”_

He could see it, as if it was yesterday. Hear it, clear as day. The despair in Dean’s eyes, in his voice; he still had a hard time believing the way things had ended after his brother had come for him, trying to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life, pull him from Ruby’s claws before it was too late.

He had been the one lying, sneaking around, letting a demon squatting a freshly vacated body lead him by the nose, yet in a Hell blood-filled confusion, he had allowed cruel, belittling, and undeserved words that could never be taken back fly out of his mouth. _“You’re weak”. “You’re holding me back”. “You’re too busy sittin’ around feeling sorry for yourself, whining about the souls you tortured in Hell; boo hoo.”_

He could try to blame it all on the spell, but they both knew that although the siren had made them bloodthirsty, it had never put words in their mouths, just removed the filters and inhibitions to reveal their inner truths. And there was no external force at work when he had thrown, _“_ _Sure, Dean, let’s trade stories. How was Hell? Don’t spare the details,”_ like it was nothing.

He had meant the words, all of them, but at the time, he was also tripping on demon steroids and his powers were slowly turning him, the way they had other psychic kids before him. They made him feel nearly invincible, corrupted him just as much as the demon blood was clouding his judgment, and by the time the effects of both had started to worry him, he was trapped and hopelessly addicted to them.

In his right mind, he never would have made light of the horrors Dean had experienced in Hell and used his most shameful secret to tear him down. His joy at seeing his brother rise from the pit would not have been sullied by the underlying resentment he felt every time he was forced to hide his extracurricular activities and justify, over and over, what he was doing with the demon chick in the dark.

He glanced at his brother, worried by the resignation on his face. The lies, the insults, Ruby… How was he going to make Dean believe that he still loved him then, but wasn’t fully himself because of a poison he had first started drinking to avenge Dean’s death?

Sam’s fingers trembled as they brushed against the chocker. He was scared, but he had a lot to fight for, and he wasn’t going to do any of it by sitting on his ass waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He walked to the couch where Dean was sitting, taking a break from the blurry scans to stare at the wall. He kneeled between Dean’s legs and waited for his brother to acknowledge his presence. Dean just kept staring into nothingness, the slight twitch of his jaw the only indication that he knew Sam was there. Sam curled his palm around his brother calf. The touch had the desired effect and Dean looked down. Sam reached for Dean’s hand but Dean pulled away.

“I’m not in the mood, Sam. Maybe later,” he said, thinking Sam wanted to play.

Sam slid his hands up Dean’s arms and around his neck and tried to kiss him. Dean pulled back, pushing Sam away.

“You’re really trying to get yourself punished, aren’t you?”

“Let it out. Just let it out. Let me have it.” Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and rested his head on his stomach.

Dean brushed his brother’s hair. As much as he knew they needed to do this, he didn’t want to. Not now. He could feel something burning in his eyes and knew that having this little drama, when he could barely hold himself together, would only end badly. He made a motion to get up.

“I need to clear my head,” he tried.

Sam held tight. “No. Whatever you got, I can take it.” He pulled up, framed Dean’s face in his hands and gave him a gentle kiss. Then he looked into his eyes, waiting for him to find the words, letting him know he wasn’t going anywhere.

Dean closed his hands around Sam’s wrists and let his eyelids fall shut. “Sometimes, I look at you, and I wonder who you really are,” he started. “The little brother I thought I knew or that guy who just wanted me out of his way.”

He still wasn’t sure that the other Sam, the one who told it like it was and made it hurt, the one who didn’t always care and had little patience for the failings of mere mortals —Dean—, wasn’t simply the one who had the guts to tell the truth about how Sam really felt about Dean all along.

Sam tightened his lips as the words cut into his flesh like swords. He wasn’t going to interrupt, no matter how much it hurt. There was a lot more where that came from, and he was going to see this through.

“Why?” Dean opened his eyes and pushed the hands off his face. “You knew I would rather to go to Hell than have you use your powers. You promised me you would honor my “dying wish”, yet you somehow let _her_ talk you into it.”

“My intentions were good. At first, I wanted to make Lilith pay for what she did to you. It drove me crazy to know that she was walking around while you were rotting in Hell. After you came back, I still wanted to stop her, but from breaking the seals this time. I thought, if I could just take her out, it would solve all our problems; stop the apocalypse and cut the head of the snake that was creating so much of the evil that had taken over our lives. I felt I had to become stronger, so I could shoulder the weight for once. I thought I was looking out for you, but you just couldn’t see it. ”

“Sam, my beef isn’t about the seals or the apocalypse. I had a part in that, _I_ started it. Demons had a part in that. Heck, freaking archangels had this planed since the beginning of time, and they used us like pawns to make it happen. What I don’t understand is why you latched on to her?”

“I thought I was using her. She was going to help me get to where I needed to be, to take down Lil-”

“That’s not what I mean, Sam. There was more to your…” Dean cringed, refusing to call it a ‘relationship’, “…whatever you had going with your pet demon― then her coaching you for your death match with Lilith.”

Sam looked down. “I know, I let it go too far. I wasn’t thinking clearly. When you died, my whole world crumbled and I fell apart. I was so messed up. I didn’t want to live anymore, without you, I…”

“I didn’t last a week, after you died, before running to crossroad demons for help; I know how it feels. You were alone, vulnerable, I get it. I’m not going to say that I don’t have a problem with the fact that, of all people, you chose some black-eyed bitch, who was chomping at the bits to see the flesh sizzle off my bones, to be your confidante and sidekick. What I really don’t get is that when I came back, and she kept coming between us, you still came to her defense every time. You turned your back on _me_ to go with her.  I told you I’d follow you wherever you wanted to go. I only had one condition, and you still chose the demon bitch.”

Sam tried to wipe the tears that were now falling down Dean’s cheeks. He felt his own start to come down when his brother recoiled, as if he couldn’t stand Sam touching him. Dean was livid. Both, he and Ruby, had come to blows more than once over Sam, and Sam knew that, in this war for his heart, he had let his brother lose too many times, even if he had never really cared about Ruby.

“I wanted you by my side, Dean. It wasn’t about Ru-”

“Never say the Hell’s bitch’s name in front of me again.” Dean stopped him cold.

Sam let out a trembling sigh. “I know now how wrong I was. Back then, I thought I was doing what needed to be done, and I needed your support. I was angry, too, because I felt you had no faith in me. Try to understand!”

After corking his feelings up for too long, Dean exploded. “Try to understand? No matter what I said, you refused to see her for what she was. You chose that lying whore over the brother who burned in Hell for you and would have done _anything_ for you. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

Contrite, Sam tried to take his brother’s hand again, reestablish some kind of connection, but Dean jerked it away.

“I depended on you, Sam, and just like all the others…”

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Sam pleaded.

He clung to the legs of his brother’s jeans, seeing the deep loneliness in those green eyes; Dean’s struggle to understand what was so innately wrong with him that, no matter how much he gave, he was still worthless to those he was devoted to; the heartbreak over the fact that his Sammy had added himself to the long line of deserters and had abandoned him, too. He opened his mouth to swear it would never happen again, but he didn’t get the chance to.

“All I understand is that after, all was said and done, you walked out, with her, after everything, you and I have been through. I had been gone a month, Sam, maybe two. And you were banging a demon. I guess you really needed the comfort.”

“Dean, it wasn’t like that…” It wasn’t some passionate meeting of the infected soul and soul-less. It was him embracing the darkness, death, losing himself in it, hoping it would swallow him all the way down to Hell’s backdoor, since all those crossroads demons laughing at his misery refused to let him through the front.

Before Sam could find the words, Dean shoved him back, making him fall to the floor, and he yelled, “Of all the people, you had to go and fuck _her_! The demonic cheerleader must have been something truly special. What did she have, little demonic tricks up her skirt? Cause she had you so bewitched, you wouldn’t listen to anyone. Or maybe, you just plain liked her?”

“No, Dean.”

Dean pounced on Sam like an angry tiger on its prey. He slapped him, shoved him down, and started tearing his shirt off. Sam gave a tiny whimper at the sharp sting on his left cheek, but did nothing to stop his brother, even when Dean yanked his pants down, flipped him over, and roughly pulled him up on his knees.

He heard Dean take off his own clothes, felt him spread spit over his entrance, and aim at his hole. He was still slightly lubricated from earlier, but he still grunted when Dean’s knob popped his rim open, forcing its way in and sending waves of stabbing pain through his lower half.

Dean punched through the tight rings of muscles and drove his cock home. He gripped Sam’s hips and slammed into him, with quick, rough stabs, leaving Sam no time to recover in between thrusts, and barely any space to breathe. Sam just took it, not fighting or asking Dean to stop; letting him take what he wanted, whatever he needed.

He reached back to curl his hand around Dean’s hip, longing to touch him, but his knees buckled when his brother shoved forward forcefully and he lost his balance and fell under the impact.

Dean continued to thrust into him, pistoning in and out of the straining hole. He grabbed Sam’s waist and lifted him off the floor.

“Get up. Get up, you fucking bitch!” he growled, and he threw Sam over the seat of the couch. “Spread ’em.”

Sam obediently moved his thighs a little further apart. When he tried to touch his brother again, Dean grabbed his right wrist and locked it behind Sam’s back. He gripped Sam’s left shoulder with his other hand for leverage and drove in and out of his ass, deep and hard, pounding into him with abandon.

Sam moaned loudly, jerking under each brutal thrust, as Dean continued his savage fuck. It hurt, but as anything his brother did to his body, it also felt good, and his cock was rubbing against the soft fabric of the couch, helping to bring him closer and closer.

When Dean finally let go of his wrist, Sam took Dean’s hand, intertwined their fingers together and pulled Dean down on top of him. He held his brother’s hand close to his heart while Dean draped himself over his back. He understood; Dean’s anger, his jealousy, and his sadness. He understood that his brother had lost everything when Sammy had turned his back on him, and that had hurt Dean more than anything he had endured in the furnace.

He wished they didn’t have to go through all this pain, but he was powerless to change the past. He just wanted to be invited again to that place that only belonged to Sammy, Dean’s heart. He clutched his brother’s hand.

“I love you,” he pledged through his tears. “And I choose you, Dean, I always will.”

His body started to shake, and he cried out as his orgasm rocketed through him, violent and shattering. His muscles clamped around Dean, and Dean groaned, his body convulsing as he pulled out and ejaculated on Sam’s ass, painting the damp skin with several streaks of come, as if he was marking his territory.

Sam rested his head on the cushion and closed his eyes in quiet bliss, content to lie there, wearing his brother like a blanket. Dean was heavy on top of him, strong, solid, and pinning him in place. His palm was gentle as it glided over the finger-shaped bruises on Sam’s hip, his lips, soft and warm against his neck; and Sam held on to his hand until Dean said the word Sam didn’t know he was dreading in his ear, “ _Over.”,_ and salty droplets were falling from his eyes, down Sam’s shoulder, while he was taking the choker off his neck.

“It’s over,” Dean repeated, and he let himself drop to the floor to lean against the bottom of the couch.

Sam’s heart felt like lead in his chest. Three days after he had said, “ _From the moment I say start, it doesn’t stop until I say over”_ , Dean was taking the leash off and cancelling the twisted play they were starring in. To Sam, it also felt like he was declaring that _they_ were over.

He slid next to his brother, and reached across Dean’s lap to try to pry the collar from his fingers, so he could put it back where it belonged. When Dean simply shook his head ‘no’ with a newfound calm, Sam understood he better use that moment of reprieve to say what was on his mind while Dean was in a state to listen. He rested his head on his brother’s shoulder and started.

“Dean, I know what I did. I know how much I hurt you. I wish I could go back and undo it, but I can’t.”

Sam paused, remembering the near-hatred on Dean’s face the night before. He had never loved Ruby, and each time he had shielded her from Dean’s wrath, it was because he thought he was protecting an irreplaceable weapon he needed to win the war. He was obsessively focused on his mission and had no time to stop and think that, to his brother, some of his actions felt like he was spitting on years of friendship, love and sacrifice.

The demon blood he was chugging did nothing to help his clarity. He had convinced himself he was drinking it so he could shoulder the burden while his brother healed from his descent into the bowels of Hell, but in the process he had allowed the devil’s wine to change him into the kind of person he never thought he could be.

He blinked away the image of him leaving Dean behind to go with Ruby. She was probably smirking in the hallway, listening in to the sounds of their fight, enjoying the fruits of her hard work, confident she had Sam so blinded and high he would step over his own brother to follow her straight to Hell. The familiar guilt spread through him. He had been such a fool…

“I’m not asking you to just forgive and forget today. I love you. Even if you don’t love me back right now, just know that I love you, and the only thing I ask is that you don’t give up on us, and that you give me a chance to make this right.”

He gazed into Dean’s eyes and pressed a tender kiss on his brother’s lips when he nodded. He wrapped his arms around him and waited. Dean hesitated a few seconds then he put his arms around Sam. They hugged, rocking gently; two halves of a broken soul which had lost their anchor and were holding on to their world so it wouldn’t slip away.

 

*

 

Sam’s thumb stroked over the back of Dean’s hand under the table.

“Do you need anything else?... Did you enjoy your meal? ...Sir?”

“Oh! No, nothing. Uh… yeah, we’re good. Just the bill, thanks.”

“Here it is,” the waitress said with an amused smile as she placed the piece of paper on their table.

Sam had a quiet laugh. It was his first time outside, since the collar had come off, and it showed. In only a few days, he had gotten out of the habit of paying attention to people. Usually, he was sitting in a corner, avoiding eye contact, and keeping his vow of silence until his master allowed him to speak.

After an emotional night, they had overslept and forfeited breakfast in favor of more time together. They had stayed in bed, quietly locked in each other’s arms, gentle touches and kisses the only language they needed to communicate until hunger had pushed them out the door in the beginning of the afternoon.

“Let’s go,” Dean said after throwing a couple of bills on the table.

Sam followed him, smiling when he saw his brother grab a fistful of sweets in the candy jar, stuff two in his mouth and the rest in his pocket. Dean’s appetite was definitely making a comeback. 

“So… should I be worried?” he asked when they were in the car, driving back to the motel.

“What?” Dean asked, confused.

“You’ve been thinking about something since you woke up. I didn’t want to say anything, but I can tell it’s still on your mind. What is it?”

Dean furrowed his brow, surprised Sam had even noticed. They had been glued at the lips all morning, and they had even managed to play ‘fondle me’ under the table while tearing into a copious lunch like starving hyenas.

“Please say something.”

Dean turned his head and looked into Sam’s worried eyes. He had planned to do this alone, but it would be a whole lot easier if Sam was involved.

“Do you remember the abandoned barn at the edge of town?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered, no closer to understanding what was going on.

“I’m gonna go there, tonight, and I want you to bring _it_ there, alive.”

They remained silent during the rest of the drive, and when they got to the motel, Dean dropped Sam off without a word.

As soon as Sam closed the door behind him, he took his cell phone and dialed. The voice he was hoping to hear greeted him on the other end.

“Hey, Sam.”

“I tried. I tried to make it work, to do everything he wanted,” he said. “He just refuses to understand, to move on. I’m done.”

“What’s going on?” the voice asked.

“I need you, Ruby.”

“Where are you?”

**_Chapter 5: Crimes For His Passion_ **


End file.
